


New Year, New Us

by StarlingHawke (Bowm8935)



Series: Not Your Traditional Soulmate AU [3]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Firsts, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 08:37:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13384143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowm8935/pseuds/StarlingHawke
Summary: Maybe it seems like nothing, allowing his boyfriend to finally top entirely. It’s just sex after all, right? Only one part of a multi-faceted relationship that began with friendship and matching soul marks. But it’s taken so long for him to relinquish this last bit of himself, to give Zen his literal everything. It’s world-changing for him, a complete shift in the universe he lives in. He’s finally free from his past and can accept that he’s both loved and wanted just for who he is.





	New Year, New Us

Saeran sits at home, watching the clock and waiting. Waiting, always waiting for his boyfriend to get home from rehearsal. Most days he doesn’t notice, too wrapped up in his art or online classes, but then there are days like today where Zen is all he can think about. Zen, his pretty boy, the birdie, the man constantly on his mind.

His hand comes up to touch the tattoo on his right arm, absently tracing a few whorls of the mark that binds them together. No, that’s not right; it’s not the mark that makes them a couple, it’s their _love_. It’s the way Zen has always treated him like a human, a friend, an equal, even on the worst of days. It’s when Saeran takes the time to attempt to cook and ends up burning their meal and Zen still eats it without complaint, or how Zen occasionally changes out the pictures on the wall to replace with new ones, mostly of things he’s drawn. He always wants to display them, proud of his artistic boyfriend, and has developed a rotation so he can do just that without taking up every inch of the wall. It’s their rides out to Zen’s - _their_ \- spot on their motorcycles, Zen becoming simply Hyun for a while as they laugh and chide each other for smoking. It’s the calm, sweet manner Zen talks to him after nightmares and the way he’s learned to adapt to Saeran’s episodes, always seeming to know what to do.

And it’s the way Saeran makes sure Zen eats and takes breaks instead of working himself into the ground. The way he’ll help him run his lines or accompany him on the guitar while he sings. How they have started running together and going to bed at a decent time (usually), the small changes they make to try to be healthier.

Whether they were brought together by fate, a god or luck, Saeran’s eternally thankful for Zen choosing to chase after a friendship with him. Without him, he doubts he’d be in university or working part-time in a flower shop. _Definitely_ wouldn’t be as far along in his therapy.

Most certainly wouldn’t be sitting here, contemplating ringing in the new year this way.

Shifting in his seat, Saeran glances at the clock again; 8:27 pm. Any time now, Zen should walk through that door. It all depends on how late the director chooses to work them, and on Christmas Eve he kept them until almost midnight. Zen had come home utterly exhausted that night, and it had taken everything in him to coax him to eat. Saeran bristles at the memory of the week prior; every night had been late, far later than he thinks is good for Zen but he has no say. Tonight he’s really hoping won’t be too late of a night. No later than 10, hopefully. He’d pulled out the makings for a simple meal that could be thrown together easily and eaten before their night starts; Zen had mentioned wanting to take Saeran up on the roof to watch the fireworks like they’d done last year.

But Saeran wants to do something different this time. Something to start this next year off different.

Just sitting like this is hard for him in the best of circumstances, and it’s driving Saeran insane at the moment. Standing, he paces to the door and back a few times before turning to head toward their shared bedroom. It still looks completely normal, as though nothing has changed. Which nothing major has yet, he supposes. Still has the dark blue comforter, the mirror opposite the bed (uncovered for the first time since he moved in), the small desk in the corner covered with half-finished drawings and sheet music, their guitars side-by-side near the closet. Yet today everything changes.

Finally, after being together a little over a year and moving _very_ slowly, Saeran feels ready to relinquish that last shred of control and let Zen have full reign. He’s been so patient with Saeran, never pushing, never complaining as they slowly worked up to things. It’s taken him such a long time to work past enough of his intimacy and touch issues to get this far, and now Saeran can say with complete honesty that he trusts Zen wholly. With all of him.

Tonight he’ll show him that.

-oOo-

The sound of keys being tossed on the counter is what starts to drag Saeran back to consciousness, the dream he’d been having beginning to turn gray at the edges as sounds unfamiliar to it work their way in. A familiar shuffling of shoes being discarded, the brush of fabric that happens when his coat rubs against something else while being hung up, the creak of a cabinet and the faucet being turned on. It feels like he’s trying to pull his brain out of quicksand as he attempts to fully wake, the dizziness that comes from being interrupted in deep sleep beginning to overwhelm him. “Mmph…” It takes all of his effort to sit up without swaying with the room, eyes widening then shutting as he attempts to adjust to the light again. “Time ‘sit?” he mumbles, yawning. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but he isn’t really surprised; he’d slept badly last night because of nightmares.

“Time for you to go to bed, babe,” comes a hushed voice full of fondness, a hint of laughter underneath. When Saeran shakes his head, the laughter breaks free into a low chuckle, and suddenly he finds himself being lifted up to be carried bridal style.

“Wha? No, st-“ Another yawn breaks through, interrupting his protests. “Stop, I wanna stay up. Do New Year’s shit with you.”

The steady steps toward the bedroom don’t pause for even a moment. “Nope. Not if you’re already asleep. I know you slept badly last night. You’re supposed to be taking care of yourself; sleeping is part of that.”

Saeran gives up and slips his arms around his neck, knowing there’s no stopping Zen when he’s on a mission like this. Honestly, he could go back to sleep right now if he wanted. Leaning into Zen, he lets his eyes flutter closed again and just enjoys the warmth of his boyfriend, his mind slowly churning out a new plan. This is fine. He can work with this. Might just take a little more convincing to get the beast to come out and play.

It isn’t long before he feels Zen lower him onto the bed, the plush mattress still as sinful as the day he’d first slept in it. “C’mon babe, you have to let go so I can tuck you in.”

Saeran shakes his head, eyes still closed, letting his arms slip down enough to grasp the back of Zen’s neck. “Don’t wanna. Can’t make me.” His voice comes out whiny, sounding like a petulant child and he follows it through with a pout. Might as well commit if he’s going this route.

“Are you _pouting_ at me?!” Zen sounds like he’s both amused and incredulous. Saeran slits open an eye and yep, that seems to match the expression he has, too. “God, that’s too cute. What am I gonna do with you?”

“C’mere,” Saeran murmurs, tugging Zen down until he can feel hot breath against his lips. He stops and waits, lets their breath mix together in the air between them. Waits for what he knows will come, it’s just a matter of time. A soft little sigh and then those lips descend on his, warm and plush as they press a gentle kiss to him. It’s far too short of a time before Zen begins to pull away and Saeran whines, using his hand anchored at the bottom of his skull to bring him back; closer, even.

The other hand starts to move slowly down Zen’s back, trailing along his spine until he can wrap it around his waist and attempt to pull him into the bed. Growling deep in his throat when Zen resists, Saeran nips punishingly at his lips and lifts a leg, slipping it behind his thighs and uses all of his strength to topple him over.

It doesn’t quite work the way he wants, but Zen does finally crawl onto the bed, settling down on his side next to him. One hand comes up to gently caress Saeran’s cheek, the kiss gentling out once more. Whatever. He can work up to the more wild side of things if he needs to.

Or not.

It only takes one swipe of his tongue across Zen’s lips before they part and he slides his in immediately, groaning when it drags against Zen’s. The fingers on his cheek flinch as Zen starts to get more into the kiss, tilting his head to deepen it and lazily tracing Saeran’s tongue ring. A shiver goes through Saeran; he _loves_ it when he does that. It feels so intimate and hot at the same time, wiping away any trace of sleep left in him.

Sliding his hand down Zen’s side to reach his slacks, Saeran dips his hand in the pocket and pulls out the phone there. He goes slowly, making sure to brush his thumb as close to the inside of his thigh as he can, a sense of victory overcoming him at the shudder he feels wrack through his boyfriend’s body. Perfect. He’ll get what he wants yet. But first…

Rolling them over so he’s on top, Saeran parts their lips, turning his face just enough to glance at the time on the phone’s bright display. Thin white numbers near the top stare back at him, almost mocking as he reads _11:48 pm_. Making a small noise of discontent, Saeran tosses it haphazardly off the bed and pushes himself up on his elbows to glare down into warm red eyes. “You think you can put me to bed before the fuckin’ new year, pretty boy? When it’s minutes away? You shit, you should know better.”

Flashing him a mildly guilty smile, Zen shrugs, hands moving to rest on Saeran’s waist. “I just want what’s best for you. My prince needs to get his sleep to be healthy. There’s no way I wanted to wake you up for this when you crashed on the dining room table. I thought I could just, I dunno, film the fireworks and we could watch them in the morning.”

Rolling his eyes, Saeran leans down to crash their lips together once more, this time leading it himself. Each kiss is nearly bruisingly hard, punishing as he bites and tugs roughly on Zen’s lower lip. At least he doesn’t have to worry about being careful; Zen has tomorrow off and it doesn’t matter if he leaves his mark on him tonight. What a good way to start off the new year, after all - claiming what’s his without any doubt. His tongue pries its way back into that hot mouth without any resistance, Zen moaning softly. It’s a sound he happily swallows as he begins to fuck his tongue in and out, dropping down to be flush against him and to free up his hands. One slides underneath Zen’s head to begin to tug out the hair tie keeping those soft, flowing locks bound while the other moves to grip the crest of his hip firmly. “Didn’t wanna keep me up all night, yeah?” he breathes, lips ghosting across Zen’s. “Too bad. Gonna do it anyway.”

Brushing the ponytail over Zen’s shoulder, Saeran hooks his finger in the tie and starts to slide it down, uncaring that it pulls at his hair slightly. He knows - and Zen’s little gasps and moans only confirm - that Zen _likes_ having his hair pulled. “Time to let your wolf out,” he murmurs with a cocked eyebrow. “Let the bad boy in you have a little fun.” As soon as the tie falls on the floor, Saeran’s wending his fingers through the loose mane. “Come on, little wolf. Break out of your binds and be free.”

All it takes is one more kiss combined with a sharp tug of hair for them to be flipped, Zen licking into his mouth passionately, hands slipping under his shirt to drag across warm skin. Saeran grunts approvingly as he slips the hand on his waist down to rest on that perfect ass. Fuck, everything about Zen is perfect; his looks, his personality, his body, his kindness, his patience. Saeran isn’t sure he could’ve designed someone better… nor would he want to, even if it were possible. This is who he wants, and he means that in every sense of the word.

Fingers claw at him, starting at the top of his chest and going down, making sure to catch both nipples on the way. Saeran arches his chest into them, his own nails digging into the fabric covering Zen’s ass as he makes muffled noises of pleasure against his lips. He can feel the muscles of his stomach shiver and contract as Zen continues, stopping only when he hits the waistband of Saeran’s jeans. Saeran uses the brief pause to grasp Zen’s shirt and start tugging it upward, one side of his lips curling when Zen sits up and whips it off, striking a pose with an answering smirk.

“Get back down here,” Saeran growls, hooking fingers into long hair and roughly jerking at it like a leash, trying to lead a wild wolf back to its meal.

But Zen catches himself with his palms and simply winks, a soft flush beginning to appear on his face. “Don’t think so. Take off your shirt, babe.”

Of course it was going to have to happen eventually, but Saeran wasn’t particularly interested in it happening _now_. Still, he untangles his fingers and grasps the hem of it, peeling it off as quickly as possible. He hasn’t even fully settled back down on the bed when he feels the scratch of a tongue up his chest to tease around his nipple, teeth latching onto the ring there and tugging on it. Saeran hisses, then moans in approval when he feels lips circle it and suck. The warmth of a hand slides up the other side of his chest until fingers find the other nub, pinching and rolling as the tongue and mouth keep working. Pushing his chest up into the sensations, Saeran’s hands drop to Zen’s head, sliding between the strands of hair.

Every swirl of tongue, each nip and tug send little waves of pleasure coursing through his nerves, the haze of desire beginning to take formation in Saeran’s mind. Mouth falling open, Saeran manages one pull at the hair in his grasp before scraping his nails down hot skin, welts cropping up in their wake in matching lines on either side of Zen’s spine. A soft growl reverberates against his nipple and he groans when an especially sharp bite is his repayment, hips rolling up only to be met with nothing more than air. Whining in frustration, Saeran reaches shaky hands between them in an attempt to unbutton Zen’s slacks.

Suddenly his hardened nipple is exposed to the cold and goosebumps appear along his stomach and arms when he gasps in surprise. “You taste so good,” comes the low murmur as lips press kisses down his torso slowly, each one hot and open-mouth with a teasing swipe of tongue. Renewed every time Zen moves on, the little bumps send increasing shivers through Saeran, and for a brief second he wonders what temperature play would be like.

No! Not now. That’s not the goal tonight. Maybe next time.

Returning his focus to the fingers that had gone lax in the waistband of Zen’s slacks, Saeran manages to pop open the button and pull down the zip before shoving them down to his knees hastily. There it is, the proof that Zen wants this just as much as he does, straining against heather grey boxer briefs and just _begging_ to be touched.

Saeran is in no position to turn down that silent request. A low moan works its way out of his throat when he feels teeth pressing against the jut of his hip, reaching up a hand to roughly palm Zen’s desire through the fabric in revenge. There’s a sharp inhale and the release of his skin as Saeran continues, even when he feels him beginning to rut against his hand. “There we go,” he breathes, letting Zen’s hips rock into his hand a few more times before squeezing to elicit another growl from him.

He’s just about to hook his fingers into the final layer between his hand and Zen’s dick when suddenly his hands are slammed over his head, Zen grinning down at him dangerously. “Somebody had plans tonight, hmm? Was this why you didn’t want to go to sleep? Wanting to bring in the New Year with a _bang?”_

Answering with a wink, Saeran bucks up against Zen, this time making contact and drawing twin moans from them. Zen’s eyes darken further, pupils blown wide as they sweep over Saeran lasciviously, a low hum of approval heard before their lips meet once more in a scorching kiss. Releasing his wrists, Zen grasps the crest of his hips instead as he grinds down, tongue prying into Saeran’s willing mouth without much trouble. His jeans were already beginning to become uncomfortably tight but now it’s nearly unbearable as he does his best to steadily roll up into Zen, hands coming back down to squeeze his ass.

As though reading his mind, fingers make their appearance between them and nimbly open his jeans. He lifts his hips as Zen tries to wiggle them down without breaking the kiss, laughing at the groan of frustration when they get caught on his thighs.

“Why do your pants have to be so damn tight?” Zen murmurs against his lips, still struggling to push them down further.

With a snicker, Saeran removes those hands and instead wraps one around his own pulsing dick, sucking in a breath when the grip tightens and starts stroking. He reaches down and quickly shoves the jeans off the rest of the way, shaking a leg until they fall to the ground. “Because they show off my ass,” he breathes, tracing around Zen’s lips with his tongue. “And you like that.”

Deep laughter greets his ears. “Caught me there, babe~”

This time there’s no resistance when Saeran hooks his thumbs into those underwear and pushes them down, down over soft, smooth flesh. The grip around him loosens, prompting a disgruntled grumble from him that’s cut off moments in when he feels something hard pressed up against his cock, fingers wrapping around him again and stroking them together.

It’s not the first time he’s felt this but it may as well be, with how much pleasure shoots through him as rough skin rubs against rough skin, enclosed in the warmth of Zen’s palm. Saeran groans, mouth falling open as he pants heavily, mingling with Zen’s between them.

There’s a soft nudge from a nose under his jaw and Saeran obliges, tilting his head up to allow the wet kisses Zen begins to place along his neck. A path of cooling saliva leads over to where teeth bite down on the bottom of his earlobe, gentle tugging pulling more sounds from him.

“So what does my prince want?” The wet drag of a tongue up the shell of his ear sends a shiver through Saeran, Zen’s baritone hoarse and full of desire. “Gonna fuck me or ride me tonight?”

Instead of answering, Saeran reaches out a hand, groping blindly for the bedside table. Sheets, blankets, aha! Wood… drawer… ugh, when had so much shit accumulated in here?

“Hmm? Gonna answer me or…?”

Groaning, Saeran shoves his hand in further, ignoring the crumple of paper and random pokes from pencils. Aha… finally his hand closes around a smooth bottle and he pulls it out, shoving it up against Zen’s chest with a smirk. “Whatever it is, you’ll be, ahhh… needing this.”

A final nip to his ear and then Zen shifts so that he’s kneeling, taking the lube with a raised eyebrow. “Riding, huh… Sounds good to me.” He releases their dicks, leaning down to press a quick kiss to Saeran’s lips as he unscrews the lid.

The smirk doesn’t shift as Saeran watches some of the liquid drip onto those long fingers, spread along them before Zen kisses down his stomach. Trembling at the feeling of a cool touch around his entrance, Saeran has to fight against bucking up when Zen licks around the head of his shaft. Then it’s encased in warm, wet heat at the same time as he feels the ever strange sensation of a finger being slid into him. Biting his lip, Saeran presses his head into the pillow, breathing shallowly.

God, it’s so weird how something can feel invasive yet good, good enough that it threatens to take his breath away. Not much time passes before Zen slips in a second finger, swallowing him down whole in the same moment. His voice gets stuck in his throat when he nearly cries out, resulting in a broken gasp that slides into a moan. Stretching, pulling, dragging. An odd combination that still somehow results in making him feel good, making him want to push down against that hand even as he wants to chase that warm heat every time Zen bobs his head and _fuck_ , how is he supposed to choose? A rough tongue swirling around him, oh _god_ another finger scissoring and thrusting into him, suction and slight pain, fuuuuuuck.

Mind hazing over with want, Saeran barely remembers the other thing he needs to be getting until he feels Zen begin to rut against his leg. Yes, right, that. His hand flies out to the side once more, groping through the drawer until he feels the familiar scratch of plastic. It takes all of his concentration to grab it, to pull it out rather than let himself get lost in the pleasure of the moment. Everything Zen’s doing feels so good and Saeran almost doesn’t want to stop, not even for this but no, no. He’s not going to ditch his plans, especially since he knows what it’ll mean to Zen.

One more finger and he feels like he’s being stretched to his max, moaning loudly as his fingers shakily tear open the package. The sound draws Zen’s attention and he pulls off with a pop, hand still working at opening Saeran up for him. “I’m ready, fuck,” Saeran husks, sitting up once Zen withdraws and grasping his length, rolling the condom over it with practiced fingers. Grabbing the lube from where it’d falling beside him, he pours it directly on and then spreads it along the entire shaft, making absolutely sure it’s slick enough to enter.

As soon as Saeran removes his hands Zen makes to roll over, the bed dipping as he shifts his weight onto one knee. Saeran all but throws the lube over the edge of the mattress in his haste to stop him, grasping those pale hips to hold him in place. A look of confusion passes over Zen’s face as he gazes down at him through lustful eyes, fingers twitching at his sides. Saeran’s customary smirk reappears as he once again grabs Zen’s dick, this time using it to pull him back down and then maneuvering it to his entrance.

Realization dawns almost comically on Zen’s face and he swallows, voice thick when he asks, “are you sure, babe? You’ll… you’ll be okay?”

As much as Saeran appreciates the concern, he’s given the idea much more thought than he cares to express. Kicking his legs up and wrapping them behind Zen’s thighs, he tugs him a little closer, tilting his head to the side. “Shut up and fuck me, pretty boy,” he says darkly, winking.

Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, Zen gives a jerky nod and presses forward, warm against heated skin. Dropping his hand, Saeran releases a shaky breath following by a jagged inhale as he feels himself stretching to accommodate the size difference. It’s a little odd, not being in control of any of it. There’s not a doubt in his mind that if he were to ask, Zen would stop; that’s not the point. The point is that he’s willing to relinquish any and all control over this because he _trusts_ Zen more than he’s trusted anyone in his entire life. With his heart, with his mind (cracked and frayed as it may be), with his everything.

It’s slow but steady, and if the general trembling of Zen’s body is anything to go by, purposefully careful. Zen’s fussy about doing anything that could possibly hurt him, sex included. This being his first time on his back, well… it makes sense that he’s probably worried.

It’s his first time on his back but not his first time being penetrated. Oh no, he’s ridden his actor far more times than he can count and he’s not scared in the slightest about what Zen could do to him.

Digging the heels of his feet into Zen’s ass, Saeran moans gratefully when Zen finally speeds up and bottoms out. There’s a moment of silence, only their heavy breathing filling the room. Saeran reaches up a hand to cup his cheek and gives him a genuine smile. “I’m not made of glass. Don’t hold back.” A finger presses against lips when Zen attempts to respond, brows furrowed. “Shh, shh, don’t argue. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in me. I’ve fucked myself on your dick, hard, don’t forget that.”

That statement seems to affect Zen more than anticipated as he gives a small groan and pulls out so only the tip is left in, snapping his hips forward roughly to fill Saeran again. All of the breath flees from Saeran’s lungs and he’s left with his mouth hanging open, Zen’s dick nestled so deeply within him that it nearly hurts. Gripping the sheets tightly, he takes a shuddering inhale just as Zen withdraws and slams in again.

Completely surrendering himself to Zen’s mercy is almost freeing, in a way. Saeran’s so used to being in control and calling the shots, to never truly trusting anyone else to take care of him. Not after his past, not when he’s always had everything planned out for him and every opportunity to have a choice ripped away.

And now he is. Maybe it seems like nothing, allowing his boyfriend to finally top entirely. It’s just sex after all, right? Only one part of a multi-faceted relationship that began with friendship and matching soul marks. But it’s taken so long for him to relinquish this last bit of himself, to give Zen his literal _everything_. It’s world-changing for him, a complete shift in the universe he lives in. He’s finally _free_ from his past and can accept that he’s both loved and wanted just for who he is.

Zen falls into a steady rhythm, each thrust long and deep as he works to find that magical angle. “Don’t think I, haaaah, can give you both tonight…” he rasps out, hands gripping Saeran’s thighs tight enough that Saeran’s sure he’ll find bruises there in the morning. It’s good, the pain, and he wants more.

“Don’t care,” he grunts in response, reaching up to grab behind Zen’s neck and pull him down. “Just want you.” Pushing himself up just enough to lock their lips together, Saeran kisses Zen with every ounce of his being. Usually both of them can last a decent time but it seems they’re being driven to the edge much quicker than normal. Saeran slits open his eyes and looks past Zen right into the mirror on the wall, feeling flesh push back against his fingers as he digs his nails in at the sight that greets him.

He’d once teased Zen for having a mirror that allowed him to watch during sex. Now he understands.

“Fuck,” he curses, taking in their entangled limbs, Zen’s hair splayed across beautiful shoulders and his own flushed face.

A deep chuckle vibrates into his mouth. “You uncovered the mirror?” Saeran begins to answer but instead cries out when teeth clench onto his bottom lip and pull, his world bursting into golden stars. Pain lights up his nerves, traveling through his body to meet with the pleasure building in his core and then it all explodes, Saeran’s back bowing as Zen hits the spot that makes his vision go black. “Good, wanted you to see how beautiful you look, hah, like this.”

The heavy feeling in the pit of Saeran’s stomach begins to take form, thick and hot as it begins to bubble up like lava. Hot skin shifts against him as Zen rearranges himself so he can keep thrusting at that angle, driving relentlessly into him over and over again. Reduced to a writhing, moaning mess, Saeran drops back onto the bed, a hand on his chest sliding up to tug at his nipple rings. “God, please, Zen, fuck…” His brain is fogged over, the only thoughts managing to break through ones involving how good this feels and god is he glad they’re doing this.

It builds and grows in him, every snap of hips causing the lava to rise higher until finally a warm palm presses against his aching erection, fingers wrapping around him and beginning to stroke in time to the thrusts. Suddenly he’s overcome as the volcano inside of him erupts, feet dropping back onto the bed to hold him up as he arches into Zen. Wave after wave of pure ecstasy crashes over him, blinding him as he roars, his release the most powerful one he’s had yet.

That hand never stops moving and Zen’s thrusts don’t slow down, working him through it until he hears a shout and feels a pulsing heat inside of him. A slight trembling of hips before the rhythm eases out again, his dick released as Zen focuses on his own orgasm.

Saeran throws an arm over his eyes and sucks in breaths, chest heaving still when he feels Zen slip out and shuffle a bit before laying next to him. Little kisses scatter across his face and he cringes, shoulder coming up to his cheek.

“Let me see that handsome face, babe~” Zen coaxes, prying the arm away. Blinking his eyes open, Saeran looks up into a face filled to the brim with adoration, only to close them when more kisses are rained down upon him. “I love you~!” Each one, though soft, feels like it is weighed down by emotion and makes his heart flutter with an excitement he only ever feels when with Zen.

“Don’t get all mushy on me,” he says in a faux-grumpy voice, unable to keep his lips from twitching up at the sides. Zen laughs delightedly, continuing his kisses until dropping one on each eye, his nose, and then finally a lingering one on his lips.

The bed dips as he rolls away and Saeran barely manages to stifle a whine of protest, fully aware of what he’s off to get. Sure enough, a wet warmth is pressed to his chest in a matter of moments as Zen gently cleans him up, murmuring words of adoration the entire time. As much as he may pretend otherwise, Saeran really does like Zen doting over him like this. He feels cared for, needed, loved.

Nothing can beat that feeling.

Again the bed shifts and Zen’s gone, returning to climb under the blankets and hold them up as Saeran shuffles up to join him.

“Happy New Year,” he says softly, eyes growing heavy with sleep once more, snuggling up to Zen’s side.

“Happy New Year, babe.”

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? Did you love it? Did you... *gasp* hate it? Let me know! I'm always open for reviews, comments and helpful criticism.  
> I'm here to grow. :)
> 
> You can also find me on Tumblr as [cutiesaeran](http://cutiesaeran.tumblr.com/) or twitter [@MysticHawke](https://twitter.com/MysticHawke/)!


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